


Chocolate Beach

by Kozh



Category: Men's Basketball RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Beach House, Boys In Love, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crush, Drama & Romance, Drinking Games, Everyone Is Gay, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Hanging Out, Hint, Islands, Kissing, Love Island, M/M, Muscles, Ocean, Pining, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Shirtless, Summer Vacation, TV Show, Unresolved Sexual Tension, beach party
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23439838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kozh/pseuds/Kozh
Summary: Selected NBA players are put on an island for a charity TV show over the summer... Basically Love Island but gay and with shirtless NBA players.
Relationships: Blake Griffin/Chris Paul, Bradley Beal/John Wall, CJ McCollum/Damian Lillard, Carmelo Anthony/Chris Paul, DeMar DeRozan/Kyle Lowry, Jimmy Butler/Kyrie Irving, Joel Embiid/Ben Simmons, Kevin Durant/Russell Westbrook, Kyrie Irving/LeBron James, Lonzo Ball/Kyle Kuzma, Paul George/Kyrie Irving, RJ Barrett/Cam Reddish, Stephen Curry/Klay Thompson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Coco Loco

**Author's Note:**

> **I actually like this one better than my other book 'Rivalry' **  
> !!!Story: Chocolate Beach by Kyronie on wattpad for latest updates and images of uh... shirtless NBA players !!!

🌇𝕹𝖊𝖜 𝖄𝖔𝖗𝖐🌇

Steam bustled carefully from the horizon as urban buildings defined their sharp lines and architectural values on the scape of the city. In the distance, the familiar Statue of Liberty stands tall in her green gown, arm stretched in the air symbolically. 

This is probably the last time Kyrie will be able to see New York in a while and despite the crazy homeless guys, the dark polluted smoke that travels across the cement roads, the over-build of scraping metal architecture and the dirty slums in the corners, he'll miss it. 

For the summer, several NBA players were asked to participate in a charity show, "Shore hoopers" to raise money. The players are to stay on a private island- Coco Privé. Irving wasn't exactly up for it at first, he prefers to spend summers with his family: Dedrick and Asia Irving. And also, where the hell is CoCo Privé even located? But hey, the NBA is family. Despite all the hard bumps in the road and the financial issues. They're all brothers in arms and they need to give back to the community somehow. 

He peers out the window and takes in the orange sunset of Brooklyn, Kyrie lets his senses dive in as he closes his eyes. The clatter of footsteps on the busy city sidewalk, the faint voices of people blending in, the fresh air, slightly tainted by the smell of baking bagels. 

A soft knock on the apartment door is heard, Irving quickly pulls his windows to a close and turns around, black Nike backpack already settled over his shoulders. Kyrie and KD were just waiting on a driver to take them to the airport. And what do you know, Kevin's standing right at the door. 

"Hey, Ky, Driver's here," he hums, tapping at the frame of the door, his other fingers fiddling with the keys. The clatter of the keys ring a satisfying clank of metal in the quiet room. Kyrie swiftly places a cap on and takes a quick look in the mirror. Not my best day for looks, but that doesn't matter at the moment Kyrie thinks. 

He paces towards Durant, "Are you ready for CoCo Privé? In Kuda Hithi Island, Maldives?" Kevin muses, shutting the door as Kyrie walks ahead of him into the hallway. He chuckles, a tint of confusion ripples in his face, "Are you sure you said that right?" Ky asks as his teammate trails behind him, still fumbling with the door keys. 

KD nods, "Yeah, I definitely did," Durant says, a bit too confidently as he makes his way beside Kyrie. Irving blinks up at him, an eyebrow raised, "Just like you were so sure you could play in finals only to reinjure yourself?" Ky teases, a little smirk pulls at his lips. Kevin frowns at his friend as Ky bubbles into a chuckle.

Kyrie shakes his head, "I heard Shaq and Stephen A. are the hosts of the show," he says, bending slightly to press the elevator button. KD mockingly laughs, "Whichever way, the media will still make me look like a bad guy." 

Kyrie crosses his arms, "Yeah well, you and me both... But I guess this is a way to prove the media wrong or something." he shrugs, he never really thought about how they'll be on camera all day. It starts to make him feel weary. What if he's caught doing things he shouldn't be... what if secrets get released?

🏖 𝓒𝓸𝓬𝓸 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝓚𝓾𝓭𝓪 𝓗𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓲 𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭 🏝

Kyrie and Kevin arrived on the sandy shores of Kuda Hithi Island. Both of their mouths drop in shock as they gaze at the lush green scenery and the tropical contrasts. The waves splashed gently, overlapping the grainy pale sands and trees tainted the floor with cool blue shade. 

Both of the nets were quickly ushered into studio rooms, producers and makeup staff clumsily gathered around fussing them. "Hey, where're the other players?" Kyrie asks as the staff spray him with perfume and start grooming his hair. "You'll see them soon," A guy says, measuring Irving's tight muscular torso and murmuring something into his earpiece. 

"Alright, Irving takes off your clothes and put this on," the producer says shoving a pair of shorts onto Kyrie's chest and gently guiding him towards the change room. "5 mins to air!" The shuffles and panic get louder as Irving hops into the white silk shorts tagged with the NBA logo. Instead of a dribbling Jerry West, the logo shows a man in a swimming position. 

Kyrie carefully steps out of the change room and immediately gets dragged out. "Okay Irving, wait for your name to be called by Shaq and then walk out with a smile, you'll see the other players out there," A lady says, coherently spraying something onto Kyrie's body to make it look shiny and help it glisten. 

The stuff feels oily and uncomfortable but Kyrie can't complain, he's on a private island for free, for God's sake. He glances around the room then gets tugged outside into a tent. He realizes he lost Kevin a while back. 

A sudden stir of anxiety begins to build up as he faintly hears names being called up. This is live television Kyrie, you can't mess up, he tells himself as he brushes down his shorts. 

"Now let's bring out the one and only Uncle Drew!" he hears Shaq boom. Kyrie takes a couple of clumsy steps out of the tent and lets his eyes adjust to the harsh ray of sunlight as he makes his way down to meet Shaq, only wearing Nike flip flops and silk white basketball shorts. 

He flashes a white grin as he approaches Shaq, "Wow you look a lot younger today Uncle Drew," Shaq says as he slides his microphone to his mouth. Irving laughs as Shaq pats his back. Kyrie finds himself on a wooden deck by a swimming pool, once his eyes finally adjust to the light he sees the other NBA players sitting on a couch nearby. All shirtless as well. 

Kyrie subconsciously bites his bottom lip as he greedily eyes the glistening chocolate bodies with sunkissed tattooed skin. Notably, LeBron who always looked like a King, no matter what angle you looked at him in. His muscles bunched and his abs look effortlessly defined even when he relaxed-

"How you feel about spending the whole summer here, Kyrie?" Shaq asks, angling the microphone in Kyrie's direction. Kyrie's hands look for something to play with, it falls onto the thin chain wrung around his neck, his fingers run through it as he thinks of an answer.

"It's great bonding and the island looks beautiful so far," he breathes, slowly folding his arms, "I mean, we're giving back to the community, we're really nothing without our fans right?" Shaq nods in agreement, "It's really the overall environment, makes you feel good... and kind of," Kyrie pauses to let out a little chuckle, "Kind of a love island vibe." 

Shaq snorts, "Well you won't be finding any ladies around here. Go sit with the boys, now." Kyrie curtly nods and happily makes his way to the couch, taking a seat beside his friend, John Wall.

They all watch as Bradley Beal enters, smiling and energetic as usual. Kyrie shakes John's shoulder, "It's your man!" he says, he didn't mean man as in lover, but as in bro. John didn't take it that way though, he blushed and hid his face in his hands. 

That's when Kyrie realizes, they're putting several NBA players- all boys- on an island for 2 MONTHS, with no ladies. Hold. the. phone. 

John is blushing like a madman when he punches Kyrie's shoulder, "Can you maybe not say things like that when everyone is shirtless and you know, we're wearing... these... thin shorts." Kyrie cackles at John's cherry-red blush, "I honestly didn't mean it like that."

Steph leans forward from the other side of John so he can face both Kyrie and John. "I mean, if you're horny for him, you have 2 months to sort it out," Steph points out as he winks, clicking his tongue.

"Oh says you... We already know who you'll be sucking off by the end of this week," John mutters. 

Almost just on queue, Klay Thompson walks in, sunlight dancing on his light skin. "The Gods have answered!" Kyrie laughs pointing at Klay. Steph quickly palms a hand over Irving's mouth even more red than John. Steph's light skin didn't help either, as hints of red blotched on his ears, cheeks, nose and even shoulders a bit. 

"Kyrie Andrew Irving!" Steph hisses through clenched teeth, pulling his hand away from Kyrie's mouth and pinching his cheek. Kyrie rubs the side of his face, "Owww," he complains. John, Steph and Kyrie all get into a little banter and they're still arguing when the cameras turn off. 

LeBron scans the resort, the kid in him is jumping up and down but he retains his composure. If you could say something about LeBron James, it's controlled. He's very good at self-control, well at least MOST of the time. 

He looks around then spots Steph, John and Kyrie laughing and shoving each other, they've been doing so since they were live. "Guys, just a heads up, we're not live anymore," LBJ says standing in front of the couch and taking a swig of his large water container.

"That's good cause now I can strangle Kyrie," Steph growls, LeBron laughs. Kyrie feels his mouth go dry as he stares at a shirtless LeBron, his thick muscles flexing as he lets out the last chuckles. Noticing this, Steph wraps an arm around Irving and John Wall leans down to meet Kyrie's eyes. "What'cha looking at 'Drew?" Steph teases, squeezing Kyrie's shoulders. John leans in, "Yeah Irving what ya looking at?" 

Kyrie's joking exterior starts to dissipate as he turns to mush. His confidence reaches the negatives and his hands start to shake. "N-Nothing. Go away Steph go watch Klay and Andre or something," Kyrie whines. Steph chuckles at his sudden shy attitude, his hazel eyes glint mischievously. Irving suddenly feels small as LBJ's dark eyes land on him. 

LeBron seems oblivious and simply wonders why Kyrie is suddenly nervous. He figures the new environment is a bit overwhelming. John stands up, "I'm gonna go mingle or something," he says scanning the beach horizon and spotting DeMar and Kyle, messing around in the beach waters. 

DeMar and Kyle are a really close couple, but they're fun to hang around. They include people in their group, somehow making you forget you're a total third wheel with them. 

"Hey, John!" Kyle greets as John approaches them. "I was just talking about how you and Bradley reminded us of ourselves!" Wait. The NBA power couple- the face of NBA friendships, being compared to me and Brad? John thinks. 

Wall laughs nervously, "Brad and I? No, we're just friends," he says, heavily doubting himself. DeMar raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Just friends huh?" 

Bradley and I? That goofball? No. 

Maybe...Maybe he's a bit attractive.

and funny...

No. Absolutely not.

John shakes his head pulling himself out of his thoughts. Kyle's smile widens even more as he grabs DeMar's arm and whispers something into Deebo's ear. 

"So, John how do you feel about being stuck here for 2 months with all these NBA players?" Kyle asks, letting himself sit on the sandy bottom of the shallow beach waters, chest sinking into the beach waves. John sits down as well, letting the water soak his legs. "It's fine. I mean it's for charity right?" 

"Yeah, but won't you miss seeing girls?" DeMar asks. Wall shrugs, "Yeah man, I guess," his mind falls back to his teammate Bradley again. 

"So you like boys?" Kyle bluntly asks earning a light shove from DeMar. "I-I uh... I don't really think about... I mean- I-" John stutters. 

"Ignore that question," DeMar says eyes growing with sympathy. "How do you think our rooms will look like?" DeMar asks, changing the subject as he wraps an arm around his smaller boyfriend. "I mean, I hope they're big," John snickers, getting comfortable again. 

"I hope they're soundproof," Kyle says leaning up to kiss a blushing DeMar on the cheek. "Wait, why-" John stops himself from asking the question when he realizes the answer to the question, he grows red himself. 

"O-Oh I see...yeah I definitely want my sleep," John says, brushing his stubble. Their heads jerk to the entrance of the resort as rookie, RJ Barrett and All-Star Jimmy Butler starts yelling, "I call dibs!" 

All the players take a jog to the interior of the resort, where vast rooms awaited them.... Large rooms that were to be shared in pairs.

Don't worry guys, things get more spicy next chapter.


	2. MINE

☀𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊(s)☀

Despite being a chaotic touchy and hyper man-child Stephen Curry likes his space. When everyone started claiming their rooms, Steph gazed over the bright open sandy resort and realized there is more than just one beach hut. 

So he took a sprint to the furthest one. Chest puffed, he stepped gracefully into the furnished, modern and spacious interior. He laughed triumphantly when he saw no one in the large open mansion-like hut. Steph ran up the stairs, self-satisfied and proceeded to open the door to the biggest room. He took in a sharp breath, fresh air breezing across from the nearby ocean. Thighs and calves burning from the sprint, Steph ruffled his light brown hair and jumped stomach-first onto the white bed. He felt a movement under him and sat up immediately, stunned. 

"What the-" Steph breathed as he pulled away the ruffled cotton sheets to reveal a shocked Klay Thompson. "Klay!?" Thompson, after getting the air in his lungs knocked out, sharply inhaled. "Well, I mean, sorry Steph I was here first, I called dibs," he smirked. Curry, still on top of his teammate straightened his back, "Well," he starts, "You were clearly defeated by me, I claim this territory!" Klay, still flat on the bed crosses his arms and sits up so their faces are less than an inch apart.

The sun gently creeps into the room as their hot breaths steam onto each others' faces. "I know exactly how to solve this," Steph says blushing, only now realizing he was practically straddling Klay's lap. "Yeah, how's that?" Klay asks, hands subconsciously falling onto the sides of Steph's waist. Steph's fingers clamp around a pillow by his legs and he quickly rolls off of Klay slamming a pillow into his face. "Pillow fight!" Steph yells grasping the pillow. Klay turned and frantically grabbed the nearest pillow, he stood up and quite literally whooped Steph's ass with a pillow. 

"Oww!" Steph whines, rubbing his ass. Klay lifts an eyebrow, not buying it, "Steph, it's a fucking pillow." Steph smirks devilishly, knowing exactly how to attack his prey, his hazel eyes glaze, "My ass is s-sensitive, Klay!" he exaggerates. Klay is shocked to a stand-still as his whole face goes red. Klay's fingers clutch the edge of the fluffy pillow tighter as dirty thoughts flowed into his head. The light-eyed man takes this opportunity to tackle Klay on to the bed. 

They both wrestle and Steph gets flipped under Klay, pinned and pressed against the soft exterior of the foam bedding. Klay's hands pressed on the sides of Steph's body, trapping him. He watches Steph's rising chest as he breathes heavily, he watches Steph's beautiful bright eyes blink up at him and he watches the sun dance on his notably soft skin. So fucking perfect, Klay silently thinks. While Steph's throat went dry when he had a sudden urge to kiss his longtime friend, biting his bottom lip as his gaze travelled to Klay's defined abs. They are both catching their breath and lost in each others' eyes when the door creaks open. 

"Oh Jesus LORD! I am SO SORRY," Ben gasped as he captured the heated moment, he hides his face behind his hands and immediately turns away from the door. Chris Paul, who was just behind Simmons peaks into the room and lets out a low whistle. "Wait it's not what it looks like!" Steph yells as Klay spun off of him. Chris chuckled, "Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?" he asks, fanning his face. A hand falls on the small of Chris' back, "Chris, we're on a beach, of course, it's hot," Carmelo snickered. Ben's face is as red as a tomato as Stephen begins to ramble on with excuses. 

"It was a pillow fight!" Steph blurted, "So, you know, I tackled him and..." Ben was nodding intently, while Chris and Carmelo were not listening, sticking to their own story. Chris cocked his head and knitted his eyebrows, "So you were both on a bed, Klay on top of you, only in shorts- as a pillow fight?" Chris asks, indifferent. Klay tensed, "Well, we're all wearing shorts so, I mean..." Chris's eyes flutter and he thinks skeptically on this. He finally lets it go, "Alright, I'll let it be." Steph sighs in relief and Klay grows noticeably relaxed. 

Carmelo smiles, eyes half-lidded, "Well, we came here to tell you we're all meeting up at the deck." Ben crossed his arms, "Yeah, apparently we're supposed to share rooms in pairs," he clears his throat, "and I guess we already know who Klay's sharing it with."

Steph gasps, "Benjamin Simmons I will send your ass back to Melbourne, Rookie!"

🏖 𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖐 🏖

Chris, Carmelo, Ben, Steph and Klay all arrive at the deck. Layed out wooden floorboards, rays of sun making everyone's skin tint with a slight golden color under the clear blue sky. It's a nice sight, some of the most athletic men in the world all gathered together, small-talk, sprawled across a deck on a bright beach day. 

Andre Drummond taps his feet impatiently on the sun-bleached hardwood, he taps the shoulder of the nearest player. Brandon Ingram turns around slightly from his conversation with Embiid. Andre eyes Ingram up and down and clicks his tongue, forgetting what he was gonna ask for a split second. 

"What's up?" Brandon asks, snapping Dre from his thoughts. "Do you have a clue what we're all doing here?" Andre asks, jamming his thumbs into the hem of his silk white basketball shorts, letting the rest of his fingers fall into the pockets of the shorts. Brandon shrugs, "Man, I didn't even know where this island was located till this morning," he chuckled. 

Stephen A. stepped out of a building and walked towards the deck, squinting from the sun, a big plastic white and blue megaphone loosely in hand. He wore oversized sunglasses and a tropical-themed suit. Russell narrows his eyes and leans into KD's ear, "Stephen A. is so extra sometimes," he whispers. Kevin shrugs and glances down at his former teammate, a lopsided smile forming. 

"You're one to talk," KD scoffs. Westbrook pursed his lips and opened his mouth, but no words would come out. Kevin laughs, "Speechless, cupcake?" 

Stephen A. comically clears his throat and proceeds to adjust the megaphone. Nearby, Kyrie painfully watches, biting back a cringe as Smith struggles to turn on the megaphone, "Stephen A- You really don't need t-" Kyrie gets interrupted by a loud projected, "LISTEN UP BROTHAS!" 

Full attention was turned towards the ESPN reporter, heads swivelled, some jumped up in surprise. Notably, Kyle Lowry jumping up in DeMar's arms. Things never get old with that couple. Truly and purely 2 idiots in love.

"ALRIGHT, SO WE HAVE ENOUGH ROOM FOR EVERYONE TO GO IN PAIRS, SO Y'ALL BETTER SHARE," Stephen's voice boomed excruciatingly loudly from the megaphone, causing Kyrie, LeBron, Bradley and John who were nearby to wince. 

Mutters and conversation rippled throughout the deck. Stephen A. begins to walk off the deck, but turns around remembering something, he lifts up the megaphone to his face again. "ALSO, MEET BACK HERE AT 1 PM, CAMERAS WILL BE ROLLING, STAY IN YOUR SHORTS, YOU'RE EXPECTED TO HAVE CHOSEN A ROOM BY THEN," Stephen A. finally begins to walk away, "You have an hour," he says, back turned from the players. 

The conversations got louder, John's stomach fluttered with doubt as he approached Bradley. "Hey, Wall! Since we're teammates we might as well share a room," Beal says as he watches John approaching him.

Right. Cause we're teammates. That's the reason...

John rubs his hands together, everything around him seemingly going grey in comparison to Bradley. The crowd of NBA players seemed to blur as he focused on Bradley's eyes. 

"Earth to John?" Bradley waves his hand in front of John's mesmerizing brown eyes. John blinks a couple of times before fully regaining himself, "Um, yeah man I'd love to!" Wall says, wondering if his blush is obvious against his cocoa skin. 

Bradley laughs at John's distracted demeanour, he lays an arm around Wall and squeezes his shoulder gently. The sudden contact quickly reminded John that they were all shirtless. Exposed. 

So Bradley's warm skin pressed against the back of John's neck and shoulders causing John to fluster even more. "Did you say you'd love to?" Bradley jokes slightly curling his tongue. 

"Do you love me as your teammate?" Beal asked, winking at John, still messing around. Little did he know...

John bites back the immediate, 'Yes Bradley I love you as a teammate and a person' and instead snorts, "Not at all, you're such a clown," he says, cracking a weary smile. 

🏝 🄱🄴🄰🄲🄷 🏝

Meanwhile, on the sandy beach, Kyrie relaxed on a mat. Eyes closed, not wanting to worry about who to pick. Normally, something like this has Kyrie drenched in sweat trying to make a decision but fuck it, he's on vacation. It's not like he has a problem with anyone in the resort either way. 

He's enjoying the sun hot on his skin and the breeze travelling softly as the waves cause a satisfying yet refreshing noise against the khaki sands. Until he feels sand crash onto his face he gasps sitting up and wiping the sand off of his eyes. 

His eyes sting from the sand as he looks up at his attacker, Steph. "Kyriiieee we gotta get you with LeBron ASAP!" he exclaims, kicking more sand onto Kyrie's face. Kyrie shields his face with his arms from the dusty particles. He coughs up some sand and yells at Stephen to stop. 

"What're you doing?" Kyrie asks, slightly annoyed. Steph stretches his arms out in disbelief, "Isn't picking a partner usually something you'd usually be panicking about?" Kyrie chuckles, dusting off some sand from his small muscular torso. 

"Not today Satan," he mutters turning over to lie down on his mat again. Curry gasps, he harshly grabs the edge of the mattress Kyrie layed on and tugged with all his strength. The force caused Kyrie to be flipped off of the mat, landing with a hard thud on the uncomfortably chunky sands. 

Steph throws the mat to the side and points at Kyrie accusingly, "Who are you and what did you do to KYRIE!?" he yelled. Kyrie slowly sat up, "Why don't you go back to Klay, I mean, LeBron is out of my league anyways, it's not worth it for a Jester to pursue a King," Kyrie sighs. 

Steph kneels down in front of Kyrie, "Kyrie. You are NOT a Jester," Kyrie waved him off, "Come on Steph, not all love stories are as happy as you and Klay or DeMar and Kyle." Steph crosses his arms hazel eyes narrowing, "First of all, I'm not even with Klay, yet--- second of all, how do you even know LeBron doesn't like you?"

Kyrie clutches his arms together and tenses his shoulders, "Well if he even does like me... he deserves better, I mean I'm a mess. I already left him before in Cleveland, I'm not trustworthy..." 

Steph knows he can't argue with Kyrie about his self-esteem issues and sighs, "Well then who would you room with?" he asked as concern grew for his sad friend. Kyrie shakes his head, "Whoever's left. It doesn't matter." 

Jimmy runs up and slides beside Kyrie sand bursting into the air. He clears his throat, "I don't have a roommate." Kyrie laughs at his close friend, Steph scrunched his nose, "Maybe no one wants to room with you because of all those times you played trash music out loud in the USA camps and all." 

Jimmy and Kyrie both shoot a deadly glare at Steph, "It's not trash!" they both say. Jimmy was always more into country music whereas Kyrie loved musicals. It's what made them close friends- their unique taste in music. 

Of course, they didn't mind Rap and loved the occasional R&B, but their hearts were stuck on Taylor Swift, Hamilton and what not. Especially Kyrie, who grew up in New York, where broadway was big. 

"Well, that problem's solved, let's choose our rooms!" Steph says, clasping his hands together. Kyrie lightly cackles, "Yeah and not end up in a hot steamy 'Pillow fight' with Klay," Steph darts his eyes at Irving. "Where did you hear about that?" 

Kyrie shrugs, "Well me and Ben were talking about Australia and then it somehow turned into a discussion about finding people nearly naked in bed together." 

Jimmy raises an eyebrow, confused. "What are you guys talking about?" Kyrie opens his mouth to answer, but Steph kicks more sand into his face.

📺 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕋𝕍 📺

"We invited the players to a 'casual' lunch. Little do they know; they'll be being served disgusting food like live worms. The catch? Well, if they don't wanna eat it, they have to answer hard questions that fans submitted!" Stephen A. announced to the camera, beside him sat Shaq, Max Kellerman and Charles Barkley. Max cleared his throat.

"Worms aren't that bad," Kellerman says, scoring odd looks from everyone sitting around him. Shaq looks down on his paper, "Says here worms, bird piss, bat spit, wow...." Charles lifts an eyebrow, "I mean, I guess I'd eat the worms over the other stuff you just mentioned."

"Shaq, why don't you read us a couple of questions?"

"Okay so the first question is-- Who do you find the most attractive on this island and why?"

~~~~~~~~


	3. Yummy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, it had been a while. (I'll post all the pictures for the past few chapters at the end; I never got to show them to you guys cause I didn't know how to put pictures on this thing lol)

🏖 𝓒𝓸𝓬𝓸 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝓚𝓾𝓭𝓪 𝓗𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓲 𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭 🏝

All the NBA players went to settle and unload in their furbished cleaned out and luxurious beach houses, each house had 2 large rooms with a king-sized bed that 2 players had to share.

🏠 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔬, ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰, ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔎𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔫'𝔰 𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢. 🏠

"Hold up, we have to share a BED!?" Russell asked, mouth agape, heart pounding in utter and pure disbelief. Kevin shrugged and gestured toward the grand and barely wrinkled bed, "I mean... this bed could probably fit about four people anyways," he said, secretly hurt by Russell's bitter commentary, "You could sleep on one end and I'll sleep on the other."

Russell momentarily blushed, but he quickly pushed down his needy thoughts for his former teammate and crossed his arms, "I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you, I'll just put the extra mattress on the floor," he instructs. Kevin almost had to laugh at Westbrook's pettiness. He should be used to Russell like this by now. "Alright then, sleep on the floor peasant."

Westbrook gasps at the comeback and he stumbles over his words until he reached a, "Whatever, I guess I'll have to take your idea," he says waving Kevin off.

🏝 𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 🏝

"I mean this place is so beautiful and we're one of the few people who can enjoy it," Steph pauses as their feet fizz into the fine khaki sands. "I wish everyone in the world could see this," Steph sighs, thinking about his siblings Seth and Sydel. Klay walks silently beside Steph, appreciating not just the early afternoon scenery, but Stephen himself- one could argue Steph WAS the whole scenery. No, Klay could absolutely not ignore the fact that everyone was shirtless. Thompson would always secretly pine for the end of every game just so he could see his teammate's cute and lean little stature in the locker room, and now he didn't even have to wait. 

Steph and Klay were both making their way from their spruced up beach house to the deck since it was almost 1 pm. It was mostly Steph rambling and Klay trying to possibly comprehend and translate exactly how can one look so adorable. Steph pauses when he realizes Klay was staring and chuckles, hazel eyes shining an almost golden color under the flare of the daylight. They both walk in silence, puffing out their chest to take in the fresh air, untouched by pollution.

Their comfortable silence is interrupted by DeMar and Kyle stepping out of their own house. "DeMar," Kyle says tugging at his boyfriend's well-defined arms, "That cloud looks like a heart!" The clouds bustled like white cotton candy in the vibrant blue sky, the palm trees in the distance had a sharp bolded outline thanks to the strike of the bright sunlight. 

"A heart?" DeMar asks, skeptically eyeing the sky as his hand travels down to hold Kyle's. To them, holding hands was practically muscle memory. The couple stumbles by Klay and Steph. "Looks more like a big thick ass," DeRozan snickers, earning a playful shove from Kyle. Steph's chestnut eyes roam to the cute couple, he blinks at Kyle's plump ass then he scoffs. "We get it DeMar, you like ass," he muses, subconsciously observing the sandy footsteps the 4 of them leave behind as they walk. Kyle perks up "He sure does I mean you should see the way he put-" Deebo pushes a hand over Kyle's mouth. "That's enough talking for you," DeMar says hurriedly as he blushes a bright red.   
  


🏖 𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖐 🏖

The ocean breeze freshens up the open deck. Padded beach chairs are laid out in the sun on top of sun-bleached wooden floorboards, a water dispenser infused with fresh lemon and fruits sparkled with paper cups stacked beside it on a quartz counter. The outdoor kitchen and bar are covered by velvet red curtains. LeBron is relaxed and sprawled over a beach chair, showering in the sun, cold water in hand feeling contempt.

His peace was interrupted by the cup getting knocked off of his hand by a plastic fake apple. The cold water stunned the king as he jumped up shaken and expressively looking around. He meets eyes with Kyle Kuzma, Ben Simmons, Embiid, RJ and Cam who are messing around by a crowd of chairs. He sighs, shaking off the water and picking up the fake apple.

"Where in the world did you guys even get this?" He asks the young players, holding up the bright red plastic fruit. Kuzma sheepishly hides the bowl of display fruits behind his back laughing as all fingers pointed to him. Stephen A. had a talk with LeBron earlier, notifying him he was the _'executive babysitter'_ and had to room with Kyle Kuzma in the same house with Cam and RJ, what the heck is 'executive babysitter' supposed to mean when you're on an island of grown men?

Don't get him wrong- he loves young players- but there's only so much he could handle. Plus, he was a little bitter, since lost the golden opportunity to room with Kyrie or one of his banana boat buddies.

LeBron blinks at the rookies unamused and spots RJ Barrett trying to peak through the plush red curtains. "RJ, get your Maple Mamba ass hands off of those curtains," he sternly says, trying to brush off the water off his chest. RJ lets go of the curtains, "Why would they try to hide our lunch anyways? _I'm HUNGRY_ ," he complains crashing onto a chair beside Cam. Cameron cackles, "LeBron you sound like an angry dad," he says, stretching his legs out and rolling his shoulders. LeBron, whose shorts are now getting drenched from the dripping water sighs, "I think I see why you guys need a babysitter now."

Jimmy, Kyrie, and Dame approach the deck. Kyrie's mouth almost drops open when he sees LeBron's glistening wet abs, eye candy by any standard- he eyes the water slowly trickle down the defined ridged chocolate muscles. CJ, Andre, Brandon, and Kelly all step up onto the wooden deck dispersing into groups. The deck becomes live with active chatter. Paul George lightly taps Kyrie's shoulder, asking with genuine curiosity, "Are you okay? You seem lost in your own world... " Kyrie jumps and twists around only to give a crooked smile to PG as he blushes from the image of LeBron's wet glistening abs that is now imprinted in his head.

Yes. He _will_ be dreaming of that tonight.

Paul George presses the back of his hand on Kyrie's forehead, "Are you sick? Damn you're red!" he says. Kyrie laughs, "No, this just happens," Kyrie pauses thinking of saying anything but the truth, "This just happens when I'm hungry." _Getting red when you're hungry, yeah that sure makes sense, way to go, Uncle Drew_ , Kyrie mentally scolds himself. "Are you sure? You're _hot_ ," Paul says, not fully realizing the context of his sentence. They both pause for a heartbeat- a real long heartbeat at that. "Uh... hot?" Kyrie hesitates as Paul's hand pressed upon his forehead. Paul shakes his head quickly, "I mean-- y-your forehead! It's hot," he corrects himself, mentally slapping himself.

CP comes up from behind Paul George letting out a low whistle. "Come on guys, you know that's not what I meant-" Paul George insisted as Kyrie and Chris looked at him, eyes wide. "That better be what you meant, I am not losing $200 on Carmelo, I bet for LeBron." Kyrie's eyebrows crease in confusion as he looked at the other point guard. Chris just smiled and made his way into another group as Kyrie and Paul stood still; eyes following the back of Chris's head.

'I am not losing $200 on Carmelo, I bet for LeBron' what does that even me- _OOOhhhh._ Kyrie, if even humanly possible, blushed an even deeper red when he realized- Chris betted $200 dollars that LeBron would end up with him. Him? With the King? He's surprised he was even considered worth LeBron's light of day.

On the other side of the deck, Lonzo, Kuzma, CJ, and Dame are all talking about their musical careers. "I don't get it though, I mean the diss track was a joke," Lonzo says, scratching the side of his face and leaning his elbows on his knees as he sat on a chair. Kuzma shook his head, "Did you have to name the track _Kylie_ Kuzma though?" CJ grabbed Dame's shoulders from behind, "I don't know man, I'm pretty sure Dame Dolla over here can set you up with better music," CJ said promptly patting Dame's shoulders as Damian shook his head in denial.

"Man, it's just a hobby," Damian shrugs, growing embarrassed at the sudden praise. "A hobby? You can freestyle better than half of the rapper I know," CJ says, "Plus, you should probably teach Lonzo a thing or two," he cackles. Lonzo rolls his eyes and Kuzma laughs, "Yeah Zo, if you're gonna make a diss track of me, make it good." Lonzo lightly shoves Kuzma, "You act like yours was any better."

Interrupting the banter, Shaq stepped loudly onto the floorboards, camera crew and all following behind; all attention was on him. "Who's hungry?" he booms. Waves of enthusiasm burst amongst the athletes. Klay licked his lips, DeMar rubbed his hands together, Lonzo straightened his back and LeBron who was still doused in water perked up. Shaq kept a straight smile, that indicated he knew something no one else did. A malicious smile. An almost evil grin is what he wore.

A slightly bitter taste rose in Kyrie's throat as suspicion grew. Shaq grabbed the hem of the curtains and revealed a Quartz countertop. Not just any quartz countertop, because placed on top of the shined and polished grey and white stone was clear glass bowls and cups filled with the most absolutely putrid disgusting food and drinks- _if you can even call it 'food and drinks_ '- you can think of. Of which, consisted of cow tongue, law fish guts, fresh centipede and... _what in the world is in that smoothie?_

John Wall's mouth went dry _,_ Bradley, who stood close behind his teammate, clamped his teeth and grabbed one of Wall's shoulders, once again initiating the contact of bare skin, "I- I don't think I'm hungry anymore", he said feeling queasy. _Hell, 'queasy' is an understatement._ John silently nodded in agreement as he eyed the items on the table. "Is this the right TV show?" Russell asked, finally breaking the shocked silence, "Cause last I checked this ain't the fucking FEAR FACTOR!"

"Hey, Russ, keep it PG," Paul George says, not even grasping the concept of his joke. Steph laughs at that a bit too hard. Stephen A. pops up from behind the counter of which displayed the horrid 'edibles' and says, "No seriously, keep it PG, we're on live television brother." That's when Steph's laugh turned into a surprised scream as he clutched onto Klay's arm. Kyrie just slowly blinked at Stephen A. and lifted a pointed finger, "How long have you been under the-"

"That's not the point, Kyrie- The point is _YOU GUYS ARE UP FOR A CHALLENGE_!" he grins, clasping his fingers together excitedly. Carmelo carefully peered over the glass bowls, staring at wriggling octopus legs, Chris held him back by the arm, "Melo stay away from that," he pleads, "I-It's still moving." Ben overhears what Chris says and peeks at the bowl himself. "Is that still alive?" he asks, eye twitching as he and Carmelo observed the squirming octopus legs.

"It does that sometimes," Shaq says, shuffling the Q-Cards in his hands. Q-Cards? When did Shaquille O'Neal ever need Q-Cards?

"Alright Brothas! Let me explain this game: Basically, we pick a playa then we pick a food after that Shaq has to read a random question. If yah can't answer the question, we gonna make ya eat it."

 _Thank God he didn't pull out the megaphone this time,_ is all John Wall could think.

LeBron, who was at the back of the crowd, towel wrenched over his broad cocoa neck and shoulders said, "Come on, the questions can't be that bad." Mutters of agreement fluctuated the area as cameras zoomed in to get every players' reaction. Andre Drummond snorts, "I mean," he says with crossed arms, tapping his fingers, "If you're so keen on answering these questions why don't you go first?" 

There was a folded out table and behind it, a chair the contestant was to sit on. LeBron made his way through the crowd and sat on the chair. His confidence was unwavering as he eyed the water bottles and trash can- assumably for puking. His hands were balled in fists as they lay on the tabletop. He steadily eyed Stephen A. as the reporter when to pick and glass bowl of jiggly fleshy chunks. He laid the transparent polished bowl in front of LeBron.

Bradley leaned over John's shoulder and stared at the fleshy chunks. He grabbed John's shoulder and leaned close to the side of his face, breath hot on John's cheek Bradley asked, "Yo, do you know what that is?" Stephen A. caught the faint buzz of confusion and responded,

"It's a bull penis. Chopped," he said trying to stop the edges of his mouth from twitching into laughter. LeBron's eyes almost bulge out of his head as his hands clench into even tighter fists. RJ almost gags beside Steph and Klay and mutters a profound, "Is there a chance I can go back home?" as he holds onto his muscle-bound stomach, another hand over his mouth as his eyebrows knitted. 

Kyle Kuzma laughs, "Hey LeBron," he says, leaning onto Lonzo's shoulder, "Eat _DICK_!" he bellows from the middle of the crowd. LeBron just squints at him and frowns, the wrinkles on his forehead forming. As his muscles bunch, his tattoos morph, he opens his mouth, "Kuzma, you better shut up before I trade your ass!" Then the mood of the atmosphere churns from disgust to laughter. The clouds in the sky slightly parted, letting more sunlight onto the base of the deck.

"Alright LeBron, here's your question," Shaq says pulling out a card, "Who's the most attractive person on this Island and why?" The already understated rumble of conversation came to a complete stop as this question was asked. If you got a large area of mainly outgoing, competitive and extroverted athletes that are fairly comfortable on live television this is the last thing you'd expect- _complete silence_. Kyrie winced at the question, LeBron stirred for a moment as if his brain got thrown into a high-speed blender and just got poured back in. 

"Oh wait! I forgot about one thing," Stephen A. exclaims. LeBron finally takes a deep breath after what feels like forever while everyone else grunted in disappointment. Stephen A. pulls out a slick black bracelet with a small yellow light buzzing inside of it. "A lie detector!" Steph's heart skips a beat. "Does that measly thing even work?" Klay asks from beside the golden boy. 

"Sure does. Clinically tested," Shaq blustered as he shuffled the Q-Cards in his hands again. The sunlight that blotched the surrounding area seemed to grow a bit grey as fear trickled in, the athletes no longer had the authority and security of lying. Namely, LeBron, who bit harshly on the inside of his cheeks as the band was strapped around his wrist. 

"If it buzzes you're lying," Stephen A. says as he makes his way back behind the counter. Thoughts and emotions were pulsating through the whole 6'9" large defined frame of the entity that is LeBron James. He knew the answer, but was it worth saying on live television? If he said the answer, would it ruin his already partially grazed relationship with this person? Hell, LeBron doesn't even know if this person even genuinely likes his presence, I mean, he requested a trade to get away from him for God's sake. 

And, what if the recent apologetic phone call was just to calm down the media? What if the young player still hated LeBron deep down inside. LeBron's eyes nervously roamed around, he skimmed through the intent faces of the crowd of athletes till he fell on Kyrie. They locked eyes for a moment, Kyrie's eyes were round and innocent, brimmed with anxiousness, sparkling with something that LeBron couldn't put his finger on. Chris muttered something unintelligible into Carmelo's ear, but LeBron was too distracted to catch it. Then the ringing in his ears became more and more prominent as he broke away from Kyrie's glance. He looked down on the wrist with the lie detector and swore under his breath. 

His dark eyes flickered onto the chunks of- bull genitalia- nope, that just makes it sound worse. Bull dong. The chunks of bull dong laid out, almost menacingly glaring back. The relationship with this person was too important to risk. They just started to rebuild it. So fuck it, LeBron will happily eat bull dick for Kyrie. LeBron nitpicks and grabs the smallest piece, feeling a lump form in his throat. _It'll be worth it_ is all he said to himself _this is worth it._

"No way," Kyle gasped as he wrapped his arms around his taller boyfriend. DeMar pulled Kyle closer as he cringed. Kyle couldn't handle the sight of the fleshy thing inches away from LeBron's mouth so he buried his face into DeMar's chest, scared to look. Jimmy forced his hands over Kyrie and Steph's eyes, "SHIELD THE INNOCENT!" he yelled as they both protested. Kyrie peered over Jimmy's hand and watched LeBron, with amazingly no hesitation pop the thing into his mouth and chew it. 

Kyrie couldn't help but wonder why LeBron didn't want to answer the question. What answer could be so bad as to feel the need to eat a literal dick? But most of all, who was so important as to get LeBron- the image of the NBA _right now_ \- to eat it on live television. Kyrie pushes Jimmy's arm away as he watches King James spit out the remnants in the trash can and gasp for air. LeBron James sniffled, eyes and nose red as he quickly downed the water that was waiting for him on the desk. Under the curiosity and dismay, Kyrie was jealous of whoever LeBron picked, cause they were obviously important to LeBron. 

He wishes LeBron would eat cow dick for him- as weird as that sounds. _Oh, little did he know._

"WHY in the WORLD would you do that!?" Kelly verbalized as he wrenches his fingers around the light brown curls on his head, a stressed expression on his face. LeBron opened his mouth to answer when a bitter taste hit the tip of his tongue, he winced and spit into the trash can again, grabbing his water bottle to shoot down another round of fresh H2O. LeBron cleared his throat, "Why I did it, you'll never know," he said, voice raspy from the coughing. His expression was slightly cocky and upright as he got up from his seat, shuddering. He unstrapped the lie detector form his wrist and placed it on the table. 

"I bet he liked it though," Ben muttered into Embiid's ear, causing them both to double over in laughter. Drummond crosses his arms as LeBron passes by him, "So, 'the questions can't be that bad'? Huh, LeBron?" he snicked. LeBron rolled his eyes and stood beside his friends Chris and Carmelo. Kyrie who stood close behind was having a mental battle on whether to approach his former teammate or let it be. His wingman, Steph seemed to take notice and briefly pulled away from his conversation with Klay and Kevin to push Steph forward, "Get 'em, tiger," he chuckled as he pushed his shirtless friend with enough force to bump into LeBron, only to quickly turn around back to the conversation.

LeBron turned around to meet Kyrie's eyes, and Kyrie quickly ripped away eye contact. He tried to look down at the floor but his eyes only ended up staring at LeBron's well cut-out chocolate abs. "Ummm... Kyrie?" LeBron asked, confused. Kyrie's eyes quickly shutter back up to meet LeBron's scruff manly face. "Um, Sorry- Steph pushed me and I just-" 

He gets interrupted as John Wall is told to come up next. "Why me?" he complained as he slowly paced his way up to the table, Bradley following through till he reached the front of the crowd. Shaq grins, it's an ominous and almost scary grin, but that's Shaq for you. Stephen A. slides the octopus in front of John. John nearly gags at the slimy pink tentacles. "Hey aren't those the ones that were moving earlier?" Carmelo loudly asked from the far corner of the deck as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his silk white shorts.

"Gee, Carmelo," John says through wired shut grinding teeth, "Thanks for _reminding_ me," he mutters as his eye twitches. He hesitantly puts on the wristband. Shaq reads out the question, "Kiss, marry, kill and why... Bradley Beal, Stephen Curry, Carmelo Anthony." Damian rubs the nip of his neck as he raises an eyebrow, "I don't remember signing up for a romantic comedy show," he jokes. CJ laughs, "He has a point." 

"Marry Steph, Kiss Carmelo and Kill that clown Brad-" The detector immediately starts buzzing and John can feel his throat go dry. Well, shit it actually works. John sighs, a part of him wants to tell the world he'd marry Bradley with no hesitation, but the other part wants to tell the world that Bradley is a goofball and all he does is joke around. 

John bites his lips then sighs, "Fine," he mutters, not willing to eat the tentacles, his stomach whisked like a laundry dryer just looking at it. John stared at his feet momentarily then shut his eyes, scared to witness the scene in front of him. "KissStephMarryBradleyKillCarmelo," he admits in a rushed manner. He knew he wouldn't get the end of it from his buddies Kyrie and Steph... He knew that Kyle and DeMar were somewhere on the deck jumping up and down. 

He blinked open his eyes and the first thing he saw was a slightly shocked Bradley, a cackling Steph and Kyrie, and a pouting Carmelo. "Kill me? Why?" he asked. Shaq puckered his lips, "Yeah it actually says here that you have to explain why..." 

John wanted to scream 'Bullshit!' so badly, but he knew they were on television, and it was embarrassing enough for them all to be shirtless, he didn't want to expose himself any more than he already has to. "Well, why don't we start with Carmelo," he says, giving Melo a death glare as he clasped his hands together. "You just always remind me of the wrong things at the wrong time," John says. 

"Name one time-" Carmelo demands only to be punched in the arm by Chris, "Melo, you literally reminded him that the octopus legs were _moving_ a few minutes ago." John feels his heart pound into his ears as he tried to think of the explanation for Bradley. "Well, for Steph, he's my friend. I mean, point guards gotta stick together," John says, a bubble of pride blossoms between the trio of Steph, Kyrie, and John who were all skilled point-guards drafted around the same time. 

LeBron laughs, "You guys got a whole sisterhood or something," he says leaning down to Kyrie's ear. Kyrie feels the blood rush to his ear as the hot breath of LeBron tickled the side of his face. "Yeah, you could say that," Kyrie lightly smiled back.

"And... Bradley?" John starts, "Um... cause he's my teammate obv-" The wristband buzzes again. "Curse you," he mutters as he stares down at the bracelet. John's head spun and twisted and ideas and thoughts jumbled and mashed and morphed. "I- uh- err..." he paused, trying to formulate the simplest but most honest answer. "He's nice," is all he managed. The bracelet doesn't budge and he sighs in relief. 

John stands up, feeling like his whole body was just set on fire as he makes his way back beside Bradley. "Sooo... I'm nice, huh?" Beal winks, John snorts, ears as red as a lazer. "Stop playing, Beal," he flusters, pushing Bradley away.

Shaq turns towards the camera, "And that brings us to our first commercial, folks. There will be more questions answered after the break!" 

During the commercial, under the shade of a palm tree, Kyle and DeMar where discussing plans to host a late-night party tonight at their beach house. "Yeah, we'll have drinks and everything. Maybe we could make it a pool party," Kyle suggests as they laid backs resting on the bark of the tree. "Oh, we could have those drinks in the coconut husks," DeMar says, Kyle, melting into the warmth of his arm. Kyle straightens up and looks at DeMar directly in the eye, "Ohh! Those drinks with those cute little umbrellas? Can we please?" DeMar laughs, "Of course Kyle," he says. "You know what we could get them to play? Spin the bottle!" Kyle says, getting excited. 

"Psh, yeah, maybe we could finally speed up the growing sexual tension in this damn island," Deebo points out, leaving Kyle laughing out loud.

Pictures!!

\--


	4. Tension

I've decided to shove some updates on AO3, but to get the latest updates: Find _**CHOCOLATE BEACH**_ on Wattpad. My profile is: <https://www.wattpad.com/user/Kyronie>

With that being said, check out more **_KyRon (or other NBA ships including Dwyane, Chris Paul, Carmelo Anthony, Damian Lillard, John Wall ETC)_** stories by: 

_(Which by the way, have several amazing edits, visuals and more-)_

**[Kuzhmia](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Kuzhmia), [Kentrellz](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Kentrellz), [IheartKyDurant](https://www.wattpad.com/user/IHeartKyDurant), [Byriie](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Byriie), [N0tDefil3d](https://www.wattpad.com/user/N0tDefil3d), [Cuhiha](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Cuhiha), [NBAManxMan_Kingdom,](https://www.wattpad.com/user/NBAManxMan_Kingdom)**

**Some story covers to hook you guys up:**

🏖 𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖐 🏖

  
The sun was a golden-yellow as it burst upon the bleached wooden floorboards of which some of the world's greatest basketball players stood shirtless, bare-foot, crammed on a deck, being interviewed individually. Draymond fidgeted with the flimsy lie-detecting bracelet. He looked at the grayish chunky smoothie laid before him of which exuded a peculiarly fishy scent. "Honestly, the most attractive on this island? Steph, John, Chris, and Kyrie. I have no idea how they're all single right now," Draymond said shamelessly, laid back- pressed on the foldable chair. His fingers tapped impatiently on the cheap plastic tabletop as his feet stretch out from under the table. He was one of the last players to answer the questions. "I mean, if I were LeBron, Carmelo, Bradley, Klay or whatever right now, I'd already have fucked the living d-"

"Dray, we're on live television!" CJ reminded him from the back of the congregation of athletes, hands cupped around his mouth to elevate the echo of his voice. Draymond clenches the side of his jaw, slightly opening a corner of his mouth to flash his teeth, "Yeah? Well," he faces the camera that flashed before the men, lense glistening with the golden lights of the beach. "Hi world, NBA twitter, specifically." 

He sucks in a deep breath look eye-to-lense straight in the camera and says, "Can you guys maybe pressure the knuckleheads of this island to stop with the tension? I can't handle this shit for 2 months," Dray grunts out, as he unstrapped the lie detector. His lazy eyes fall on LeBron, his mouth slightly agape. LeBron stood out as one of the most sculpted in the crowd, towel wrenched over his neck as he stood strong, arms wrangled, beside a much smaller Kyrie and Chris Paul. Kyrie and Chris were 6ft and 6'3ft which is pretty average, unless you're standing with NBA players. And to bold out LeBron, he made the point-guards look like midgets, one of the garden gnomes in your grandma's backyard to be clear-cut. 

They have a small staredown- LeBron and Draymond, as if it were back in the finals. Cavs versus Golden state. The nostalgia is clear in the bright blue sky. 

"Either some of y'all better make a move or I'm finna fuck every point-guard by the end of this month," Draymond said, unwavering confidence steaming past everyone on-deck. "Alright, the cameras. Are. OFF!" Stephen A. said, shuffling to grab the wristband from Draymond. With Stephen A's flowery colorful and over-eccentric Hawaiian tuxedo, it was hard to take him seriously. But, then again, whoever even took him seriously in the first place? It's ESPN.

As Dray made his way off the table eyes were rolled. Typical cocky Draymond with his inflated ego and large antics. Kyrie had to perk a little smile though, he appreciated Draymond calling out the tension, it was like stretching a rubber ball in here. John Wall palmed a hand over the soft skin of Kyrie's shoulder, "He really thinks he has the looks to get with every point-guard here?" John murmurs, narrowing his eyes at Dray who made his way to the side-bar. "And that's assuming we're even gay in the first place," Ky responds, slowly crossing his arms. 

Steph skipped over to DeMar and Kyle, the one couple where you _want_ to be the third wheel. They were butt-flat on the sand, relaxing under the blue shade of a palm tree, enjoying the exquisite scenery of the billion-dollar island. It's odd really, they're so relaxed and chill, they're adorable together, it's an enjoyable sight, in a sense- it feels at home hanging out with them- like they're your parents or something. 

"Dray was right for once," Kyle says, relaxing into the arm of DeMar, backside leaning on the near-root-end of the palm tree. "Right about what?" Steph asked, dropping into a criss-cross beside the couple. Lowry gave a goofy smile, "Well, there is this oddly romantic tension pleasing the air. I shouldn't say pleasing- it's really interrupting the vibe of this island." Steph's hazel beam bored over the athletes on the deck, all lean and pressed. Fresh and young, mingling. His green-hazel eyes fell on Klay who was making small talk with Andre and Draymond as they made fun of Kevin and Russell Westbrook's beef. 

"See what I mean?" Lowry blurted outstretching his arms of which pointedly crossed between Steph and Klay as he looked up at DeMar, eyes wide with erratic disbelief. DeMar simply smirks and hugs Kyle closer, pulling Kyle nearer to his chest, "They'll get to it soon enough."

The ringing in Steph's ears fades slightly and he catches the '- get to it soon enough' part. Steph whips his attention back towards DeMar and Kyle, "Get to what soon enough?" Steph asks, grabbing at his own ankles, still in a crisscross, enjoying the feeling of hot grainy sand beneath him. 

Kyle blinks at Steph for a few moments then back at his boyfriend. "Well, Steph, I was planning to have a party with Truth or Dare and Spin the bottle at our beach house tonight," Kyle says, blatantly, he was tired of trying to keep up with the mannerisms and just went with being straight-forward. I mean, someone on this island has to be straight-forward, other than the arrogant Draymond who's comments were too brash to have anyone genuinely listening.

DeMar nods, "And, there won't be any cameras to restrict our actions," he adds. Steph puckered his lips, further defining his already baby-face, "What could go wrong?" he asks, as he clasps his hands together and quickly hauls himself up, "I'll tell the others, what time will it be?" Kyle raises an eyebrow, impressed by the lack of hesitation. "Oh, uh," Kyle blinks up at DeMar indicating the unanswered question. DeMar shrugs, "Make it 9 pm." "9 it is."

After 10 minutes of Steph screaming to the crowd while standing on top of a table about a party that's happening at 9 pm, Kyrie finally managed to drag him off. "Wardell, you need to calm that ass of yours DOWN. You're acting like you just shot up 5 snorts of cocaine up there!" Kyrie mumbled, castigating his good friend through clenched teeth. 

Steph poked Kyrie's nose playfully and laughed at Kyrie's bewilderment. "You can't assume I didn't KyKy," he muses. The two of them merge into John Wall's conversation with Bradley. 

The two were bickering like a married couple about some basketball game. "All I'm saying," John continued, "Is, if you didn't push him, then I would've made the shot." Bradley cackled, grabbing one of John's shoulders as he leaned down to laugh, "Okay, but I just pushed a player, you should've been focused on your _shot_... not focused on me!" John rolled his eyes and tensed his arms, a light blush fell upon his cheeks as he looked away only to catch Steph and Ky, arm in arm striding towards them. 

"Not that I mind you focusing on me," Bradley teases, with a low whisper. John blushes, but it also stirred an anger in him, he could never tell if Bradley was joking or being serious, so he laid off every flirty joke Beal threw and replaced the embarrassment and butterflies with anger. John shoves Beal away, a bit roughly than he intended. "Can you stop making those stupid jokes?" John says, knitting his eyebrows, the bottom of his eye twitching, "It's not fucking funny."

Bradley was taken by surprise, "Gee, you could've just said you didn't like the joke!" he says, taken aback. "No, he liked it alright," Steph says, poking his head into the conversation. Bradley's expression crumpled into even more confusion. John just puffed a sigh and stormed off, jamming his hands into his silk-shorts and making his way steamily towards the beach houses site. 

Kyrie blinked between the three then pointed at John, biting his lip, "I'll talk to him." Kyrie was always one to be concerned with his friends, so it was expected for him to be the first to take off. Steph just stayed with Bradley, who remained stunned by John's sudden reaction. 

🏠 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘊𝘑 𝘔𝘤𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘥'𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦. 🏠

Kyrie stepped carefully inside the house, floorboard creaking under him slightly he slowly approached the already locked door and gently knocked his knuckles against the hardwood, "J?" Kyrie asked, concern ruling in his voice. The sunlight breaching through the large windows seemed to adopt a hint of grey matching the change in mood. 

"Go away Ky, I don't want your sappy support, your 'there's plenty of fish in the sea' or whatever," John grumbled from the other end. Kyrie had to admit that statement did carve a little hole in his heart, maybe he was sappy at times, but it was for good intention. Kyrie was adamant nonetheless, "Come on, what happened to bros before hoes?" Kyrie said, trying to lighten the mood, as he stood in front of the door, biting the inside of his lip. 

Shockingly, Kyrie's ridiculous motto won, and John opened the door, eyes watery and nose red. They quickly braced into a hug. "I hate his jokes," John muffled into Kyrie's bare shoulder, only now, remembering they were wearing nothing but shorts. They pull apart and sit at the edge of the large neat, folded up bed, both staring at the ground and swinging their feet. "He just..." John sighs, "I don't know why I overreacted there. It's just so annoying!" He grits out, palms up and fingers crunching, his veins slightly popped out in his forearms.

"It's because you don't know if he's being himself, leading you on... or if he's actually into you right?" Kyrie asks, tilting his head towards John thoughtfully. "Right on the nail," John sighs. Kyrie pulled his legs up on the bed so he sat criss-cross to face Wall. "This might be a bad idea, but that party tonight... did you wanna... maybe, you know," Kyrie grows even more embarrassed, "Like flirt or whatever. So maybe we could get Beal jealous or something." 

John snorted at that, "Ky, if we're getting anyone jealous from that it's LeBron." Kyrie's eyes widened into circles as his lips pressed together, aghast. "LeBron? No. He's probably into someone else... someone more pretty or whatever," Kyrie laughs, John could sense the bitterness laced in his tone and knew Kyrie was hurting as much as he was. "Kyrie, what?"

"What?" he asked, looking up from twiddling his thumbs. John narrowed his eyes, "Are you not aware that you're one of the cutest in the league?" Kyrie's face crumpled and he ratified a disgusted expression. John noticed Kyrie tense up so much in the displeasing thought that even his abs crunched slightly. "John, you said I was the sappy one?" Kyrie breathed out. 

"What?" John asked, a clear miscommunication between the two, "What!? Do you think you're ugly or some-shit?" Kyrie chuckled lowly averting eye-contact, "I mean, I'm definitely not on LeBron's level," he mumbled as he shrugged, a light flush on his cheeks are in-obvious as the golden sunlight is the main factor to the accentuation of his skin. John almost had to cringe, in the sake of incredulity, he was shocked. He turned to criss-cross and fully face Kyrie, the once smoothened white sheets crinkling underneath them. 

John grabbed Kyrie's arms and squeezed them intently, "Kyrie, on a scale of 1-10 what would you rate yourself?" "Maybe a fo-" "Don't even answer that I'm gonna end up slapping some sense into you." 

Kyrie's ample eyes flutter in confusion. John goes into deep thought for a few moments then his face lights up, "I have an idea for the party tonight," he smiles devilishly. 

We ended up cooped up in John's room: Damian, John, Kyrie, Steph, and Chris. "Alright guys, tonight, we're gonna make some men jealous," John smiled, rubbing his hands together. Steph tipped his head up alarmed, realizing what John was onto, "There's," Steph points his finger to silently count the surrounding athletes. "There's 5 of us though, we can't pair up."

"Maybe a throuple?" Chris suggested rubbing his chin. Damian shook his head somewhat contested, "That'd be too obvious. They'd see it as a joke." Steph patted the bed, grabbing everyone's attention, "Kyrie could go with Jimmy or Paul George or Drummond." Kyrie flinched at that immediate response, "I'm sorry..but why me?"

Everyone in the room stared at Kyrie like he was dumb. "Kyrie, do you think any of them would not _volunteer_ to take the job of fake dating you?" Ky is utterly dazed, why does everyone act so weird around him lately? "Uh, I mean, they'd volunteer cause they're being friendly, duh." Steph pulled a sarcastic smile and whipped a pillow at Kyrie's face, "OBLIVIOUS! THE DEFINITION OF OBLIVIOUS!" 


End file.
